Mistaken
by Pallet and Cerulean
Summary: Set during Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire "She was beginning to think no one would ever come out of stormy labyrinth, wandering the twisting isles until they met their ultimate demise."


The waiting was the worst part of this whole event. While Harry, along with the other champions of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, trudged on through the wicked maze, Hermione was left here to wait. For all she knew, Harry could be lying amidst the hedges, bloody and bruised, or far worse, while she simply sat and waited. Brushing away the thought with a nervous shake of her head, Hermione brought her gaze up to the entrance of the maze. Still nothing. She was beginning to think no one would ever come out of stormy labyrinth, wandering the twisting isles until they met their ultimate demise. The image sent a shiver down her spine, a cold chill seeming to cut through the air. It was best not to let her mind travel down that path, but the longer time ticked on, the harder it was to ignore the more gruesome prospects. Pursing her lips, Hermione let her gaze flit from Ron to the large, eager crowd, and back to the dark hedges again.

Just as she was beginning to think she couldn't bear it any longer, the audience, seemingly as one, jumped up in a frenzy, congratulatory shouts ringing through the air. Straining to see past the collection of heads and shoulders filling her field of vision, Hermione caught a glimpse of the entryway to the maze. She could just make out two silhouettes, sprawled against the blanket of lush, green grass. Struggling to see farther, she placed the first of the two figures as Cedric Diggory, his tall, lean frame making him easy to pick out. The second... Hermione's breath caught in her throat when she saw Harry beside Cedric. Overjoyed with the prospect that Harry might have won, Hermione hardly noticed the shift in atmosphere until gasps of horror and hushed whispers replaced the excited cheers that had been ringing through the air. Something was wrong. But, because of the writhing mass of watchers blocking her view, she couldn't quite place what it was. It wasn't until whispers of, "He's dead!" caught her attention that the gravity of the situation sunk in.

"Ron," Hermione gasped, her heart clenching with dread and fear. Quickly shooting a glance his way, she was sure Ron's horrified expression matched her own.

Harry was dead.

The world felt dull and muffled around her, like everything had been plunged beneath the surface of a muddy lake. It was all dark blurs and slow, strained movements as she pushed past a stunned group of students. Focus trained on the stairs, Hermione stumbled down them, squeezing her way through gaps in the frantic crowd. She was vaguely aware of someone shouting her name behind her, Ron perhaps, but it was muffled by the blood pounding in her ears. Her breaths came in short gasps, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks, blurring her vision. It was all so disorienting. But, the only thing that mattered was getting down to the field below. If there weren't so many people in her way, she could have been down the stairs in moments, but shuffling past the waves of horrified onlookers took far too long.

Finally making it to the bottom, out of the claustrophobic maze of bodies, Hermione took in a deep breath, trying desperately to reorient herself. However, a rough hand on her shoulder caught her off guard. Hurriedly, she glanced back to find Ron pointing at the two champions, lying together in the grass. "Harry's okay," Ron mumbled, trying to catch his breath after chasing after Hermione, "It's Cedric."

When Ron's words finally sunk in, a massive wave of relief washed over Hermione, bringing a wave of fresh tears with it. A choked sob slipping past her lips, Hermione crossed the field with urgent steps, sinking down beside Harry while he grieved over Cedric's bloodied body. After a brief moment, his arms looped around her neck, and the two fell into an embrace, both offering the other a shoulder to cry on. Relief that Harry was alright mixed with the lingering fear and despair that accompanied her thinking he had been killed, forming some strange sort of melancholy. Though, the tears slipping down her face started to slow as she held tightly to the fabric of his jacket. Feeling his heart beat and his soft breaths against her neck was enough to soothe her nerves and assure her that he was okay. He was here and he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

All the dark and evil in the world simply disappeared for a moment, because they had each other, and that was enough.


End file.
